


Lord Allan

by Mondhase



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Episode s02e13 We are Robin Hood, Friendship, Gen, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3477521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mondhase/pseuds/Mondhase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slightly different take on the scene when the gang is tied up in the desert in 'We Are Robin Hood'. What if the sheriff had mentioned the offer Allan refused in order to save his friends? One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lord Allan

**Author's Note:**

> I think the writers of Robin Hood really missed out on the opportunities to make the first meetings between the Sheriff, Gisborne and Allan after his return to the outlaws more poignant. So here’s my take on the scene in the desert from ‘We Are Robin Hood’.

Allan had thought that their situation couldn’t get any worse. They had been tied up in the middle of the desert and left to fry in the sun by the very man they had travelled all the way to the Holy Land to protect, Richard, the bloody Kind of England himself.

But apparently all of this wasn’t bad enough. Because God or fate or whatever had arranged it that they were now looking at the one person he had been glad to never have to see again. The Sheriff of Nottingham.

“See, that’s the trouble with foreign travel. You run into all the same people that you see at home,” the short man complained as he dismounted his horse and approached the bound outlaws.

_Ain’t that the truth_ , Allan thought miserably. He watched helplessly as a man the sheriff referred to as James, who Allan remembered seeing in the King’s camp, forced Marian forward and tied her up right behind Robin so their backs were touching.

_Looks like every group has its traitor_ , he thought bitterly, and his own guilt only grew worse as Much began shouting at the crusader.

“You let the Black Knights buy you. You’re revolting!” He knew that Robin’s former manservant wasn’t one to hold grudges and that, after his actions in Nettlestone, Much had probably forgiven him by now, and yet Allan couldn’t help but flinch at his outburst.

_Revolting; they must all have thought of me like that. Or maybe they even still do._

The sheriff went on to gleefully explain his plan to kill the king, but Allan barely heard a word he said. It wasn’t just that he was lost in his own thoughts, but he also found it increasingly hard to concentrate as the sun kept burning down on him. But his head snapped back up to attention as he suddenly heard Robin’s voice beside him, pleading to the sheriff.

“Just let Marian go; she has nothing to do with this,” their leader begged, even though he had to know that it wouldn’t change his enemy’s mind.

“She has _everything_ to do with this!” The sheriff replied angrily, before turning his attention towards Allan, who he was standing right in front of now. Still talking to Robin, his eyes were fixed on the man who had not too long ago been living in _his_ castle, and had pledged loyalty to _his_ cause.

“All along we thought we had a spy in _your_ camp,” he exclaimed, emphasising the word with a slap of his gloves in Allan’s face, “but you had one in ours.”

As the sheriff was already about to keep walking along the line of tied up outlaws towards Locksley, he turned once more, facing Gisborne’s former right-hand man again instead. Just like his friends, he was in a bad condition with beads of sweat running down his face, and a serious heat stroke not too far away. Shaking his head in bafflement, Vaisey addressed Allan directly now.

“I understand Gisborne offered you money, your own land and even a lordship for your services and yet you still managed to find yourself in this position instead. A very poor choice for someone as commendably ambitious as yourself, I must say.”

Grinning weakly, Allan mustered up his last remains of defiance to answer.

“Would have stayed, but you see, you and Gis just make for _really_ bad travelling company.” She sheriff’s trademark smile, the one that never seemed to reach his eyes, never wavered as he patted Allan on the shoulder in an almost friendly gesture.

“Ha, that’s funny, very funny indeed. So maybe from now on I should start to consider being betrayed a laughing matter, right?” He motioned for James to come over to him before leaning closer to Allan so he was staring right into the outlaw’s face. “A hint…no.”

Shaking his head, the sheriff stepped to the side and further towards Robin as James took his place in front of Allan and hit the defenceless man right in the stomach, twice.

Allan wheezed in pain as the air was knocked out of him and he had to fight his body’s reflex to double over and protect the area that was attacked, as the ropes tying him to the stakes beside him were cutting sharply into his wrists.

Blood was rushing in his ears from both the pain and exhaustion and he could only vaguely hear as Robin now addressed the sheriff again, but he was grateful that it was drawing the man’s attention away from himself.

The next thing he knew, the sheriff was turning away from them and heading back to his horse, and Allan had the feeling that he had missed most of the conversation again.

“I’d love to stay, but _I_ don’t tan well. Do excuse us, we have a king to kill.” He called for James to follow him and he and the crusader mounted their horses and rode off, leaving the outlaws even more devastated than before, now that Marian had to share their fate as well.

A heavy silence hung over the group as even their last faint hope, that Marian would somehow be able to foil their enemy’s plan, was utterly destroyed, leaving them no choice but to accept the inevitable.

But when Will suddenly spoke, there was a distinct trace of humour in his voice, refusing to submit to the hopelessness of their situation.

“Lord Allan, huh?” He glanced over at his friend, past Robin and Marian, who both couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Allan as a noble man.

“Land, wealth and title or being roasted to death in the desert. I bet you regret not taking Gisborne’s offer now, don’t you?” Much quipped from behind him, as sweat began to run from him forehead. If those two choices were presented to him now, the miller’s son didn’t know if he would have the strength to refuse his enemy’s offer.

“Nah, no place I’d rather be.” Allan replied quickly, his voice laced with sarcasm. But as he turned his head slightly to look at all of his friends who were tied up with him, sharing his fate, he began to think about the question more thoroughly.

Would he do it again, leave the sheriff and Gisborne and return to the outlaws, knowing the outcome? But then he remembered his immense relief when he had arrived at the barn in Nettlestone and found Robin, Will and the others still alive and the sense of belonging that he had felt at fighting side by side with them once more. The same, almost forgotten feeling that he had now, even as he was nearing his end.

He glanced at Robin and Marian, united again at least in death, and he went on to rephrase his previous statement.

“No, actually I take that back. I _really_ hate the desert and there are tons of places I’d rather be right now,” he looked at each of his friends once more, as far as his position allowed it, finally looking past Robin and straight at Will, who seemed somewhat disappointed by his apparent change of heart, but whose expression brightened again visibly as Allan continued.

“But nobody I’d rather be _with_.” His uncharacteristic honesty slightly baffled the entire group and they remained quiet until Much suddenly spoke again.

“I always knew you’d come around eventually, Allan. There was just no way that you could have left us for good.” At the laughter coming from his friends, Much actually managed to look completely indignant, and continued even more resolutely.

“What? I _did_ know.”

“Of course you did, Much,” Djaq agreed, smiling warmly at her friend. “As did I.” At this, Allan turned to her in surprise and quickly realised that she was actually telling the truth.

_'I believe you're a good man, Allan-a-Dale.'_ Her words from all those months ago still rang in his ears and if only he could have believed her back then, things might have gone differently. But it was no use dwelling on what-ifs, when they were all facing the harsh reality of the present.

Allan still didn’t know if he believed Djaq now, but he was here, wasn’t he? Awaiting his death side by side with his friends, his family and despite everything he was glad that he was back with them. Back where he belonged.

\- The End -


End file.
